


Faded Moon

by JUSTanotherWRITERthatWRITES



Series: Opposites [1]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:19:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7050700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JUSTanotherWRITERthatWRITES/pseuds/JUSTanotherWRITERthatWRITES
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Far in the future, certain humans have discovered the ability to use their Rarities, a part of humans that hadn't been unlocked for centuries upon centuries. After a horrible chain of events, humanity had to start all over, rule by one major kingdom. However, since the death of the King and Queen, much of the kingdom has split into their own factions, and with the new twin princes soon becoming kings, their civilization is about to experience something entirely new. The only question is, will they be ready to face the upcoming challenges?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faded Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [screwtodayimsleeping](https://archiveofourown.org/users/screwtodayimsleeping/gifts), [For being an amazing friend :) The chubby pigeon says hi!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=For+being+an+amazing+friend+%3A%29+The+chubby+pigeon+says+hi%21).



The armour weighed him down, his sword heavy in his hands as sweat rolled down his skin, dampening his shirt. Looking up towards his opponent, he struggles to stand but found he could not. The sun was behind his enemy, revealing only the outline of his armor, casting the rest of him into shadow. The other man raised his sword above his head, one last blow to defeat his enemy. The sword sliced through the air with ease towards his head, whistling slightly.

“Enough,” said the man not far away, the sword stopping inches above his head. “That’s enough for today, well done.”

The soldier sheathed his sword and pulled off his helmet, then turned and ran round, jumping, laughing, and shouting, “I beat him! I beat him!” before spotting a group of ladies and jogged over to impress them. 

The man walked over to the soldier on the ground, offering his hand. “You weren’t too bad today Caden,” he said, pulling him up from the ground.

“Michael, I was terrible,” Caden said, wincing as he put his arm around Michael. “Logan totally beat me up.”

“True, but you lasted longer this time,” Michael responded, smiling, his scar beside his lips turning into a crescent. “C’mon, let's get you out of these and to the nurse.”

They walked off the dirt clearing towards the armory nearby and removed Caden’s armor, hanging them on the walls, along with his sword, before setting off across grassy field towards the stone castle. The castle wasn’t too large, only big enough for the bedrooms, kitchen, dining hall, throne room, and a few other rooms, however design made up for the lack of size, and Caden found it quite cozy as well. Gargoyles looked over the fields and doors, balconies hung out, carried upon the backs of carved angels. Vines and flowers decorated the towers, both carved and not. The large wooden and metal infused door opened with little sound, revealing the main hallway where doors guarded either side, another large door open on the other end, showing some of the throne room, the large wood and gold throne atop a stairway. The wooden floor and red carpet was dyed with many colors from the stain windows. Above the doors in the hallway were carved animals, dragons on the further half, flying towards the carved sun above the throne room door, and snakes that slithered towards a full moon above the entrance door. 

They walked down the hallway a few doors before turning into the nurse's room. The inside was decorated with angels that held the ceiling in each of the four corners, their wings outspread also holding the ceiling. The ceiling was decorated with a mural of many cherubs carrying different things across the sky, mainly doctoring supplies, but also lists and other random objects. In the center laid the greek god Apollo reaching for something through the mural. He once had a beautiful smile, but the roof had begun leaking and has warped his body and put a small hole through the fabric where his mouth was, making him look fat with a gaping mouth that wanted to consume the people below. The mural amused Caden.

The wooden floor creaked as the nurse closed the cabinet and turned around, showing her normal smile. Her face looked like it belonged with the angels, her face was round and her eyes a soft shade of brown that matched the wooden floor beneath them. The golden hair that usually kept back in a bun fell around her shoulders, curling. Her body on the other hand looked like that of a wrestler, with large shoulders, thick arms, rough hands, and a solid body. If an angel and a wrestler were ever to have a child, this is how Caden would’ve imagined it to have looked like. 

“Hey,” she said, her voice rough, but cheery. “Tough day again? You know I’ve told you to take it easy.”

Caden let her help him into the cot and spoke, “I took it easy. Logan took it too far.”

The nurse shook her head, “Grace dislikes Logan. Logan always goes too far, he doesn’t know when to hold back.”

“Now now Grace,” Michael responds, his carrying in a slight laugh with the warning, “It was a fair fight, and I wouldn’t let either of them get any more hurt than they’d have to. We can’t learn anything without a little pain, can we?” 

Michael sure knew, probably the best out of all of them. He was born in a wagon and raised by his mother, who was only seventeen years older than he. She hadn’t wanted Michael at first since she had been forced into becoming pregnant, but she kept him despite of that. They never had a home and didn’t stay in one place for too long, living from the garbage and any money people would give, which was very little. 

When he was young, Michael was caught between a fight between two gangs, which resulted in a burn on his head and a scar next to his lips. The burn on his head made him look like he was balding prematurely, so he always kept his head shaved. One member of the gang was his father who escaped, but was caught later and charged for many things before going to prison for life. Michael had learned how to fight after that in order to protect himself and his mother, who had come down with a sickness, and Michael turned to thievery. He had collected almost enough money to give his mom proper care, but she died too early. He was only nine. 

After the death, he turned himself in to the authorities, but after reviewing his past, and given his age, he was given an easier punishment. He gladly returned all the money, and vowed to pay back triple of what he stole. Until he was sixteen, he lived under the protection of the police force as a farmer, and was monitored on everything he did, then put into prison for five years, and after prison he was to help teach the armies and the princes to fight until he was deemed unfit for teaching. He had been teaching them for one year.

Despite all this, Michael was always positive, always looking on the positive side, and protected the weak, the poor, and the elderly. Although he was not in the police force, he was very engaged in what they were doing and would often help during the investigations. He was one of the most friendly and humble people Caden had met.

Grace shook her head, “Grace thinks there’s a limit as to how much damage a person can take. A person can still break, like a twig. Now boy, remove your shirt. Grace has to check your wounds.”

“I think I will excuse myself, if you don’t mind,” Michael said, as Caden took off his shirt. “I should check up on Logan and the equipment. Make sure you get plenty of rest Caden and don’t forget about archery training this afternoon,” he said, giving him a small smile. 

Grace reapplied Cadens bandages and gave him some medicine and an ice pack to strap onto his chest to help prevent the swelling on his fresh bruise. “You need to eat more,” Grace stated. “You’re as skinny as a pole.”

Caden looked down at himself, his skin the color of lightly-cooked bread dough. He didn’t have the body as his brother, but it was still good: a well developed six-pack, the slightest outline of an eight-pack. Some would say it was great, but Caden didn’t really care about it. It’s not like he wanted it, but he didn’t not want it either, he just had it as a result from training. “I suppose I could,” he mumbled. “I don’t feel hungry though.”

“Oh nonsense, boys like you should be big and strong. You’re a prince, you should live as one!” Grace chuckled, putting medicine back into the cabinet.

“I don’t really feel like a prince. We haven’t had a king for a long time,” Caden replied, lying back on the cot.

Caden and Logan’s father was the king of the land, but he died soon after they were born, along with their mother. Since they were both too young to rule, the job of ruling laid upon the highest five people of the police force, but their power was so limited, they could hardly do anything unless it was absolutely necessary, such as war or plague. The police force was in charge of keeping order in the land until the next king, one of the sons, would come into power at the age of eighteen. Logan and Caden were both seventeen.

“Hmm, well,” she clicked her tongue and shrugged. “Soon, right? Grace is happy for you both. Now go eat, it’s practically lunch time.” She grinned him goodbye as Caden left, pulling his shirt back over his skin.

The room across the hall had three doors entering it, two connecting to the hallway, and the third connecting to the kitchens, where the smell of cooking chicken and bread emerged from. The lightly colored wood of the floor contrasted the dark wood of the elegant table and chairs, covered in a red tablecloth and royal purple cushions. The walls were partially decorated with wooden carvings and partially with reds, purples, and blues that had been painted much like a sunset. The ceiling was a light blue color and a golden chandelier hung from the center of the room, the bulbs glowing bright, with the exception of one, which flickered above the seat where Logan sat. 

His blonde hair was spiked and his black eyepatch crossing over his right eye, his light blue eye shining, a light powder of freckles on his face, and his teeth even more white than the white button down shirt he wore with the sleeves rolled up. His golden vest was thrown over his chair his feet propped up on the table, the black shoes as white as the sun, matching his pants. As usual, two girls sat next to Logan, the two he had seen earlier, who admired him golden arms which he casually flexed, giggling and playing with their red and brown curled hair. Caden noticed that the ladies’ elegant green and orange dresses were sewn in such a manner that suggested that the ladies were, surely, from out of town. Just another pair of travelers for Logan's short lived love life. They’ll have gossip and drama and then have to leave the place and Logan will still be as cocky as usual and will look for the next victims, not even caring to reply to their many letters. Caden would’ve warned them, but he couldn’t find his voice as he quickly glanced away, trying to hide his blush as he sat across the table from them.

“Well if it isn’t my dear brother!” Logan exclaimed, putting his feet down and applauding. “Great match today! Maybe next time you’ll beat me!” At his, he laughed, the girls hiding their smiles.

“He wears an eyepatch as well,” observed the one of the left. Her skin was darker than Logans and her hair a bright red, complimenting her orange dress. The makeup on her cheek was blurred slightly.

Caden’s hand instinctively went up to his left eye, where his white eyepatch laid. Embarrassed, Caden played it off by brushing the front of his dark brown hair out of his dark green eye and looked away, hoping his cheeks weren’t very red.

“We’re twins,” Logan explained, “Both of us were born without an eye.”

“Is that so, darling?” asked the girl on the right, her light blonde hair curled past her shoulders and over her green dress. Her eyes were a dark brown that almost looked black. Caden shook off the feeling that she could look into his soul. “Interesting.”

A gong rang, signalling midday. The third door opened and two maids and two butlers walked through with the platters, filling the room with a wonderful aroma. They revealed the prepared food, bow, and began to leave.

“Oh, you. The one with the ugly mustache and crooked teeth,” Logan said, the butler turning around, smiling.

“Yes, m’lord?”

“Yes, very nice. Don’t show me your smile. Your teeth look like mountains, big and ugly,” he commanded with a smile, the butler closed his own. “That’s better, so very much. Would you mind getting us a chess board?” The butler opened his mouth to speak, but Logan stopped him with a finger over his lips. “Nuh-uh, I don’t want to see you open your mouth in my presence.” The butler stood for a second, his face unreadable. “Well?” Logan asked, amusement present on his face with a growing irritation hidden underneath. “Don’t just stand there you fool!” He waved his hand and the butler quickly left and returned after a few short moments with the board, bowed, and left.

“What do you say brother?” Logan asked while setting up his obsidian pawns. “Shall we play?”

“Oh, um,” Caden stammered in a small voice, swallowing the mashed potatoes he had been discreetly shoving into his mouth. “Maybe later?”

“Oh come on,” Logan snickered, twirling the obsidian king between his fingers. “It’ll be fun.”

Not long after the game started, Caden had found himself with most of his stronger pieces off the board, leaving only his wooden king, bishop, and many of his pawns on the board. Logan had lost all of his pawns, but his king, queen, bishops, and knights were on the board, circling the wooden king.

“Checkmate,” Logan grinned, knocking over the wooden king. He took a bite of the roll and flung his arms behind his head. He sighed victoriously as the girls giggled and continued teasing and whispering to him. Caden ate the rest of his meal in silence.

\----------------

_ Twang _

The arrow hit the target forty five yards away in the red, almost in the yellow. Caden closed his eye, exhaling, a breeze blowing the hair on top of his head. The breeze kissed his skin on the sides and back of his head which were cut short, and he loved the feel of it. The scent of flowers and grass always made him feel better. A collection of white, purple, and blue flowers bloomed across the field, mimicking the night sky. Despite the exercise that morning and the heavy pound on the bow, his arms felt great. He couldn’t help but grin.

“Well done Caden!” Michael grinned while putting an arm around him. “I swear, you get better every day!” He added in a hushed voice, his hand dropping onto his shoulder blade, “If only your brother were as good as you.” Even without knowing, Caden knew Michael was hiding in a laugh. 

Not far away, Logan struggled to pull the string back. The arrow flew into the air and landed in the ground, a couple yards from the target. Only another arrow to join the collection. Logan groaned with irritation.

“Here, Logan, watch,” Michael shouted, passing Caden another arrow.

He gladly took the arrow and notched it in the string, pulling it back. A small green flame snaked along from the tip of his fingers, across the arrow, and to his elbow that pulled back the string; his eye glowed a soft mint color. Thin, almost invisible, strands of green mist rose from his hair that was blown by a wind that was not there. To Caden, the world was sharper than a needle, the target in clear focus, place in the world firm, as if nothing could move him. He could clearly see in his mind the flight the arrow would take.

“Notice how he focuses only on the target,” Michael pointed out while reaching across Cadens shoulders to touch the tip of his hand and elbow, “and how he holds the bow steady. How his eye focus on his target, how his breathing steadies.” He paused a moment to inhale before whispering into Cadens ear a single command: “Shoot.”

Caden let the string go, the arrow flying through the air, the thin green tendrils holding on to the arrow for a moment before floating away. It lands in the outer gold ring, near the center. Caden grinned, the last of the green mist fading away.

“Great shot!” Michael exclaimed, grabbing onto Cadens shoulders. 

“Sure,” Logan grunted, running a hand through his hair. “Great shot, Eagle-Eye. Just give me a blade and I’d destroy you any day!” To prove his point, he took a knife from his belt. Much like Caden, blue strands rose from his hair and eye and wrapped around his hand and blade like a glove, forming like a claw. He slashed the dagger through the air behind him, a light blue wave coming off the dagger, cutting the bamboo directly behind him cleanly in two which fell in the stream and leaving a gash in the bamboo behind it.

“My bamboo!” Michael complained as he rushed over, red in his cheeks. His eyes were slightly more brown than the usual hazel-color as he picked up the bamboo slices as easily as sticks. He frowned at them before saying, “class is dismissed.”

Caden left soon after for a different part of the range, but Logan stayed behind, a small grin fit on his face. He walks over to Michael, looming over him. Michael wasn’t the tallest man, only a few inches over five foot, and he wasn’t very broad either. His skin reminded Logan of a frappuccino, a soft brown color, and his facial details were small with large eyes and long thin ears that reminded Logan of an elf. If Logan hadn’t known him, he would’ve assumed he was a teenager. 

Logan on the other hand was six foot two and a half and moderately broad shouldered. His skin was smooth and his face symmetrical, with the exception of his eye, and he tended to look relaxed, but once Caden had left, his face hardened, his brows furrowed slightly and the mischievous joy that usually held his eye was replaced with a more predatory look, like that of a tiger spotting new easy prey. He found it easy to intimidate people, even Michael, and especially his sorry excuse for a brother.

He grabbed Michael's face from underneath, a thumb on one cheek, a finger on the other, and the last three underneath his chin, forcing Michael to look into his face. “You know you don’t have a chance,” he said, his voice colder and harder than Grace’s homemade ice cream. “You’re too old.”

“I’m only twenty two,” he whispered, careful not to show weakness. “That’s only a few years.”

“A few years are more than enough. Give up already,” Logan spat, pulling Michaels face close and leaning into his ear to whisper, “You’ve got no chance.”

At this, he threw Michael down into the stream, put away the blade he had held at the back of Michael's neck, and walked away while whistling a cheerful tune as if nothing had happened. 

\----------------

Caden had spent the whole dinner pushing the peas on his plate around. The ladies had returned, giggling at Logan’s awful jokes. Michael had not shown up for dinner. Caden was slightly worried, but assumed something must have come up. It had happened before. 

Although he tried to convince himself that, he couldn’t help but to feel worried.

Up in his tower, Caden stood on the balcony, looking across toward the field where he had done archery. Logan had cut some of Michael’s bamboo, which was precious to Michael. He was sure that had been painful for him. Michael loved gardening, and bamboo was one of his favorite plants.

Not far away, Caden could see Logan in his book filled, candle lit room in a tower just like Caden. He spotted a dash of brown, green, and gold before Logan exclaimed something and closed the wooden doors to the balcony before closing the last window. It was going to be one of those night again, Caden had thought to himself before looking back over the land. 

From here, he could see just about everything. Behind where the dining room was laid the kitchen, the back door going to a dirt path that led to the maid and butler houses, the stables, and a few other buildings. Infront of the main entrance was a stone road that continued for some distance before fading into a grassy road. A well worn path detached from the stone road towards the shed where they stored their armor and the arena where they fought, and past that laid the field where they practiced archery, the stream cutting through the flowers. The bamboo circled around the field, shielding the field from the forest that encircled the castle, village of workers, and arena. The dirt road carved a small path into the forest and down the hill, out of sight. In the dark, Caden could see the lights of some villages that laid further down in the forests and clearings. Beyond that, the forest was dark, with the rare exception of a campfire or two. In the sky, the stars shined like their own villages and campfires. Sometimes Caden had wondered if life existed in space. The moon was invisible in the sky above. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” said a familiar warm voice from behind Caden.

Michael stood there holding a candle barefoot, his pants hanging around his ankles, and his black tank top a size too small for him, revealing his muscular arms and strong chest. A smirk laid on his face. “You should really light up your room. You’re gonna trip over something in there,” he said, joining Caden on the balcony, leaving the light by the doorway. 

“I never had trouble in the dark,” Caden replied, not minding the company. “My eye adjust well.”

“Your eyes  _ are _ amazing,” Michael replied, quickly adding “I mean, you have great aim. In archery, I mean.” 

Caden chuckled softly and looked away from Michael’s obvious red face. 

“Where were you during dinner?”

“Oh, I… I was taking care of the bamboo Logan had cut,” Michael left the balcony, taking the candle to light a few candles in the room. “Someone had to take care of it.”

“We do have maids and butlers. They could’ve done it.”

“I didn’t mind.” Michael’s stomach growled.

“I’d get you something to eat, but the kitchen’s closed and locked up.”

“Don’t worry about it, I got food at home.”

Michael picked up a notebook filled with drawings and flipped through the pages. “You ever thought of selling these?”

Caden, blushing hard, ran into the room and snatched the journal. “That’s personal! Besides, I’m terrible at drawing, especially people.”

“Are you kidding me, those were amazing!” Michael stated, with no response. “Here, you can draw me.”

“You’re joking, right?” 

Michael picked up a guitar and strummed a chord, leaning against the wall. “You know I’m serious about this,” he sang.

Caden smiled slightly, found a pencil and chair. “Alright, here I go.”

A few hours passed, filling with singing and light laughter before the drawing had finished. Caden reluctantly showed the picture to Michael who smiled, finding the drawing to be too great. A gong rang, signaling midnight and Michael quickly ran down after telling Caden to stay where he was and to keep his eyes closed. Soon after, Michael ran back upstairs.

“Alright, ready?” Michael asked. Caden nodded and opened his eyes. Michael stood there, a big smile on his face as he showed his gift. Caden grinned, looking at the gift, then Michael, then back at the gift, before jumping up and hugging Michael. 

“It’s great!” Caden exclaimed, taking it in his hands.

“I’m glad you like it!” Michael grinned. “I was nervous on how you’d react.”

Caden took the hand painted white and blue vase filled with purple, blue, and white flowers, and placed it on his desk. “I made it myself,” Michael said.

“I love it,” Caden said. “It’s perfect.”

The vase gleamed in the candlelight, shining like the sky showing through the skylight on the night painted roof. The warm wooden walls and floor glowed with warmth, comfort, and safety. Even the clothes, books, papers, arrows, and other things that spread across the room made the rooms feel more together. 

“Caden,” Michael said from behind him. His name sent a shiver through Caden’s spine. He loved that shiver.

“Mhm?” He replied.

“Happy birthday,” Michael whispered into his ear, wrapping his arms around his sides.

For a moment, Caden felt secure, warm, and happy. But it didn’t last. It was as if someone had poured cold water onto him as he quickly snapped from the state. “My brother may have seen us!” He said, leaving the hold quickly to close the doors and windows. “And now I’m a king! I have to rule the land! What if I’m not up to the task? What if I’m not good enough? Will the people starve? Will they revolt?” Caden began to breathe quickly and Michael took a step forward. 

“Calm down Caden, you’ll do fine. This is what you were raised and trained for, and you’ll be amazing. You always are. Deep breaths.”

Caden calms down for a moment, sitting on his bed. “But what if-”

“Sh,” Michael said, putting a finger to Caden’s lips. “Don’t worry about it. Everything will work out just fine. For now, sleep.” He laid Caden down, placing the blanket over him.

“Won’t you stay?” Caden asked.

Michael smiled warmly. “I’ll always be with you Caden. But you know what would happen if we were seen together. Maybe someday,” he smiled with a sad look in his eyes. He picked up a candle and blew out the others. The lonely flame illuminated Michael’s face from below, the dancing light moving the shadows across his face, making it look like a laughing skull. “Good night Caden,” Michael said as gentle as ever before descending down the staircase into darkness. 


End file.
